


A Mark of Ownership

by Lthien



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Biting, Hannibal Loves Will, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Marking, Murder Husbands, My first hannibal fic and it's already sexual, but his love is twisted of course, hannibal can actually feel guilt, hannibal feels guilty (as he should), hannibal has marks of ownership over will, hannibal wants Will to mark him, hannibal wants to let him, hannibal wont let will sleep, i wrote this on my ipad, im such a sinner, mother shield your eyes, refering the scars where Hannibal was bled out, so yeah sexual content, will wants to own hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 16:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9193838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lthien/pseuds/Lthien
Summary: “Am I not yours, dearest Will?” Will hummed again, deeply thrilled at the idea. He ran one hand down Hannibal’s shoulder, his nails raising goosebumps. The other he ran down his chest, his nails curling in the hairs there. He smiled sweetly, his hand curling around Hannibal’s wrist. His fingers traced the long scar there.“Do you bear my mark?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> As my jumbled MESS of tags tried to tell you, this is my first fic for the Hannibal fandom...Also, this is the first time I have EVER attempted anything sensual and or otherwise so please forgive this mess of mine. I'm in love with these characters so I wanted to write something for them....I was aiming for fluff but fluff doesn't exist in this fandom. Only pain, sexual tension, and more pain. Sooo..here it is. I hope you guys enjoy it anyway. I'm nervous to post it loll. I almost didn't. This is un-betaed! I'd really appreciate feedback! 
> 
> Thanks!  
> Lthien :)

Will hummed low in his throat, his eyebrows furrowing. “Stop it,” He mumbled sleepily, though he made no attempt to stop the hands that brushed his chest and stomach. Hannibal hummed peacefully in response, scooting closer. Will rolled his eyes, stretching his limbs when Hannibal’s pressed up against him.

“Sleep, Will,” Hannibal whispered, warm lips pressing against Will’s shoulder. He smiled when he felt Will’s muscles dance under his fingertips, the man subtly lifting himself up so Hannibal could wrap his arms around him. Will huffed in response, a spike of faint arousal stirring through him. Whatever sleep he had was over now, and Hannibal knew it—made sure of it.

He sucked in a light breath when Hannibal’s fingers traced his stomach—the smile given to him nearly three years ago. Hannibal’s hands stilled, the man’s lips pressed against Will’s nape; in his wild curls. “Did I hurt you?” Will shut his eyes.

What a loaded question. _Yes, always._ He bit his tongue to stop the poison from seeping out. Hannibal’s tone was gentle, but the words were blades.

“It does not…hurt,” Will told him softly, his voice small; vulnerable. It would always be that way with any form of affection. Especially with Hannibal’s warmth pressed up against him, their legs tangling into one beast. It was a dangerous game to play. Love, tenderness; but Hannibal fell into the roll as if it were made for something like him—like _them_.

“Hmm,” Hannibal hummed after a moment, his fingers smoothing against the rigid edge of Will’s skin. Will could feel his frown against his skin. The younger man sighed and covered Hannibal’s hands with his own, his touch light. His touch did not stop Hannibal’s attentions. In fact, it only encouraged him to clasp onto Will’s hands and replace his own upon his stomach. Hannibal moved Will’s hands until they brushed the puckered edge of the scar, his hands like anchors upon Will’s own.

“Hannibal?” Will murmured, lost. He turned his head to the side to try and guess what was going though the cannibal’s mind. Hannibal’s face was still pressed to his nape, close to his ear. In the quiet of the night Will could vividly hear the man’s nose flare. He was scenting him again, lost in whatever occupied his mind. “Tell me what is wrong.” Hannibal’s fingers twitched upon Will’s own in response. His only response. Sighing, Will started to turn over.

When he was face to face Will’s eyes widened to find Hannibal’s misted over. It was only something he had witnessed a few fleeting times before. All of them had been triggered by something, and all of them had been hard won by Will. Hannibal’s mind palace threatened to swallow him whole day-by day, the vastness overwhelming even to Hannibal. Will brushed a thumb against Hannibal’s prominent cheekbone, his thumb pad tasting salt. Hannibal’s eyes were piercing, and incredibly dark. He looked ready to eat him. Will did not let this defense harm him. He rose an eyebrow in response, challenging the beast that threatened him. Will took a deep breath, feeling the air rattle down his throat. Was this why Hannibal had woken him, then?

“Do you want it to?” The question was clear, smooth, and without waver. Will held his ground as he waited for his answer, his head cushioned by comfort, his body still tangled with Hannibal’s. He was in the lion’s den as it were. All Hannibal needed to do was to bare his teeth. In his own mind palace Will was coming up with an escape plan, however few those might be. Hannibal’s response was a vary of emotions. Eagerness, anger, desire, and, lastly, love. They flashed upon his face in sequence until they finalized on the last. His eyes grew more wet and Will about jumped when Hannibal’s fingers pressed against his scar again, feather light.

“I did…once,” Hannibal told Will honestly, his fingernails grating lightly against where his blade had bitten.

“And now?” Will found himself asking, closing his eyes. He let himself lean into the touch, Hannibal’s arm snaking around his tensed waist to bring him closer. As Will’s body flushed against Hannibal’s own he began to truly relax. He knew this body too well. He knew the signs, and the animal that held him now was one rare—almost human.

“I could have done better.” Ah. So that’s what loomed in his great halls. Will smiled then, pressing his lips against Hannibal’s silver hair.

“Not during the pressing moment,” Will hushed him, petting the serial killer like a child. Beneath closed lids, Will relived that day over and over again, the blood forever staining the both of them. A day of pain. A day of loss. A day of reckoning. Hannibal’s fingers twitched upon his scar. “You wanted to mark me, remember? Mark me as your own?” Hannibal frowned.

“You are mine,” The man said without hesitation. Will shivered in response. The accuracy felt as permanent as the scars upon his body—they marked his soul. He felt as if Hannibal’s fingers were inching closer to it, his fingers like meat hooks. This beast would completely ruin him, he knew, and the thrill of it sent his heart racing. However, Will did not give Hannibal this gratification. Instead, he hummed, his eyebrow raised high. Hannibal pulled away, his lips twitched in an almost amused smile. His eyes were latched onto Will’s own, trying to decode what he skillfully kept hidden. Hannibal cocked his head.

“Am I not yours, dearest Will?” Will hummed again, deeply thrilled at the idea. He ran one hand down Hannibal’s shoulder, his nails raising goosebumps. The other he ran down his chest, his nails curling in the hairs there. He smiled sweetly, his hand curling around Hannibal’s wrist. His fingers traced the long scar there.

“Do you bear my mark?”

Hannibal’s striking canines sparkled in the light of the moon. His smile resembled the one he had given Will, wide and terribly beautiful. Will felt this one cut deeper into his very core—to the place Hannibal had failed to force with a blade. Deeper still until there was nothing left but Hannibal.

When Hannibal devoured him, Will sought out his marks, his teeth scraping over them both. He placed his mouth over tender flesh and bit down. The animal within Hannibal purred and it vibrated throughout both his body and Will’s own. It was as solid a promise as verbal to Hannibal, and Will smiled at him, bloodied teeth and all.

Will would give him a new mark in the near future, one of his very own. With this, Hannibal would allow him. The next place Will bit down being the decided location. A gift; a mark of ownership. With a teasing smile, and soft sigh, Will looked at Hannibal beneath the halo of his curls, his hands pushing Hannibal back against pillows, taking control. Hannibal’s fingers pressed into the meat of his thighs, holding on, as Will marked him one last time, the sharpness of his teeth a pleasure undefinable.

“Oh, Will. Oh, my dearest, _Will._ ”


End file.
